Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (7 page)

Oblivious to her internal battle with her hormones, he tilted his head and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Why do you find it hard to speak around me?”

Not wanting to admit her insecurities to this roughly beautiful man, she gestured to the whiskey. “Are you returning this? If you don’t like the brand, I have lots of others to choose from. I don’t know if it’s the custom here or what, but when I moved in, I got a ton of booze as housewarming presents.”

He quirked a brow at her. “No, is very good, high quality. I was hoping you would drink with me. Is tradition in my country to celebrate new beginnings with a…what is word…cheer—no, a toast.”

Then he gave her a small, soft smile that took all the fight out of her and replaced it with hunger.

Blah, she was so weak.

Giving him an exasperated look, and her overly eager body a stern mental talking to, she opened the door then waved him in. “If you want me to drink with you, I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for Tequila. And if you’re supposed to be my bodyguard, shouldn’t you be guarding me instead of getting wasted?”

“Maks and Gleb are watching your apartment. They wanted to come meet you, but I did not want to overwhelm you. Come, let us welcome each other as neighbors properly. Would be rude to refuse.”

She cocked her head to the side, brushing her hair out of her face before tucking it behind her ear. A lifetime of having polite Midwestern manners drilled into her head by her mother had a pang of guilt hitting her when she mentally replayed her words and realized how discourteous she was being. It wasn’t his fault she got all flustered around him, and if he was trying to smooth things over between them, she could at the very least act in a civilized manner toward him.

“You’re right, I am being rude, please forgive me. Would you like to join me for a drink, neighbor?”

Alex admired Jessica’s heart-shaped ass as she walked in front of him, and the deep red of her hair burning like embers in the dim lighting of her cozy home. The sight of her long legs clad in those deliciously tight pants had him fighting an erection. He didn’t want to scare her off, and regardless of his body’s reaction to her, this young woman could be nothing more than a job. She was skittish, but he needed her to feel safe enough around him to trust him and his men with her life. There might be a time where her obeying him without question could save her, and he couldn’t let his attraction to her get in the way of keeping her alive and well.

He tried to argue with himself that his loyalty to his
Bratva
was the only reason he was feeling so zealous about her protection, but that was not true. There was something about Jessica that brought him a peace like he’d never experienced, but her inner fire challenged him as well. He’d bet that beneath her quick temper lay a sweet soul that was easily wounded, therefore well protected against anyone trying to gain access. Not that he didn’t like her sass. It got him hard as fuck, but the knowledge that he could probably make her submit to him in the bedroom teased him without mercy. Tempting him to take just a small taste of her.

He imagined her riding him, her amazing silky, straight hair swaying across his thighs as he brought her to a back-bending orgasm. Dreaming about Jessica in such a carnal state was not helping his determination to keep from pulling her into his arms and giving her the kiss he knew she wanted. The need trembled along her skin, evident in the way she pressed her thighs together, in how she stole quick glances as if unable to help herself from checking him out. The way her gaze lingered on his crotch was not helping the situation.

Need suffused her expression when she allowed herself to look at him.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Did you ever dance ballet?”

That brought her eyes back to his, wide with puzzlement and making her look adorable in her confusion. “No, why?”

“Because you are very graceful.”

She walked over to a set of light wood cabinets, opened a door, and pulled down a cut crystal bottle filled with clear liquid. When she glanced at him, she smiled a real smile, and it warmed his blood. When she wasn’t busy trying to be a bitch, she was actually rather gentle by nature. He usually liked tough women who knew how to keep their emotions safe, but something about her openness appealed to him.

He watched her pink lips move as she talked, wanting to taste them. “I was too much of a tomboy to do ballet.”

“What is tomboy?”

“It means…a girl who acts more like a boy than a girl. So instead of doing ballet and beauty pageants like my mom would have liked, I did horseback riding and played sports. You know, boy stuff.”

“You like horses?”

“Yeah, we had four of them at my parents’ farm. I grew up around horses and love going camping and horseback riding. There is something really comforting about having a horse with you when you’re out there beneath the stars.” She looked longingly out the small, dark window in her kitchen. “If it ever stops raining, I want to see if I can find stables around here.”

“I will arrange it.”

She blinked at him. “Hmmm?”

“You wish to ride. I will make that happen.”

Her lips curved into a smile he wanted to kiss. “Are you my bodyguard or my genie?”

“What is genie?”

“You know, a spirit that grants three wishes. From Middle Eastern fairy tales.”

“Ahhh, this I know. I am not genie, but if you desire something, tell me and you will have it. Is my job to take care of you. Is privilege for the men in your life to provide for you even if we are merely your bodyguards. Gives us purpose, pride.”

“Well, thanks, but I can take care of myself.” She sighed then glanced up at him through her pale lashes. “Sorry, that was kind of rude. What I meant to say was thank you, but if I want something, I can get it for myself or do it. You don’t need to do it for me.”

He’d run into this independent attitude in Western women before, so he tried to explain to her why it was his job to make sure she was content. He didn’t normally give a shit if his clients were happy as long as they were safe, but Jessica was different. She wasn’t some jaded politician or crime lord, and he was sure she didn’t understand how things were in his country, or how he was raised to treat a woman of worth. And she was a woman of worth, not one of the spoiled socialites or models he usually dated.

Actually, she was the only woman of worth he’d ever been attracted to like this, so this need to make her understand him was a new experience for him as well.

Leaning against the edge of the counter, he looked into her eyes and said in a low voice, “Making you happy brings me pleasure.”

“What?”

His English was good, thanks to years of tutoring and immersion, yet he still struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I am bodyguard, but I am also man. If something would make you happy, is my duty to provide for you. That makes me satisfied.”

“Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Huh, I never considered it that way, but you’re right. My dad, well, my adoptive father, he took care of me and my mom, and you’re right, it did make him happy and satisfied. We weren’t super rich, but we were well off enough that my mom could stay home and raise me, and we still managed to take family vacations. I even got a decent used truck for my sixteenth birthday” She flushed and set the bottle down. “Though I’m sure, to you, we would be considered poor.”

That offended him, even if it was probably true. “I think you were raised in love. That is without price.”

Her eyes grew watery, and he sucked in a breath, wondering what he said to offend her. When she began to blink rapidly, she looked away, obviously struggling for composure. She fanned her face. “Yes, I was raised with love, and yes, I know how lucky I am to have had them in my life. Can we not talk about this right now, please?”

The need to comfort her consumed him, but he managed not to reach for her. Sometimes, he forgot how young she was compared to him, how fragile. Not just in years but also in experience. Taking pity on her, he changed the subject before she burst out into tears. “Yes, we can talk about how Maks refuses to go shopping more than two hours a week.”

“Pardon me?”

“Maks is another of your bodyguards. He will be watching over you when I cannot along with your third primary bodyguard, Oleg. There will be other men coming and going to replace Maks and Oleg for two weeks at a time so they can go home and visit with their families.”

“Oh, right. Three full-time bodyguards? Wow. That’s…ummm…well, tell them I’m not huge shopper, more of a wanderer, so they should be okay.”

“Oleg, he will shop with you without complaint, but is only because he has been trained by his wife and daughters to endure it.”

That made Jessica burst out laughing. “Oh dear.”

“Yes, but when you see Oleg, you will know why no one teases him about his devotion to his women. Is large man.”

“I bet they don’t.” She smiled, her earlier happiness returning easily.

Alex was beginning to think she was one of those rare people who were easily pleased, and her default mode was cheerfulness. Not that he minded it. Her mood was contagious, and he found himself smiling more than he usually did. A soul as sweet as hers needed to be safeguarded against a world that would try to crush it like a butterfly. It would take a delicate touch to keep her safe without smothering her. Thankfully, he was here to do just that. A deep sense of expectation filled him, like he was about to embark on something important.

He leaned against the counter, watching as she searched around for the shot glasses, giving him a nice profile view of her perfect breast pressing against the soft cotton. A natural beauty who did not need makeup and jewels to shine. Alex had almost kicked Gleb’s ass when he’d attempted to flirt with Jessica. Thankfully, Alex had kept his temper, because he had a feeling Jessica would not understand or condone them fighting until one of them was bloody.

Faint warning bells rang in his head that he was becoming infatuated with her in a way that was far from professional, but he ignored them.

She crossed the white tiles of the kitchen floor to him with two ruby shot glasses. Her lean hips swayed, and those fucking pants tormented him with hints of what she would look like naked. He wanted to rip the crotch open with his teeth and lick her pussy. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose and willed his erection to stand down. Just looking at her was as arousing as having his dick sucked by one of his random mistresses. The low lighting of her kitchen made her hair darken to almost a garnet tone, and her cornflower blue eyes mesmerized him.

He had a feeling there were many layers to Jessica, and he looked forward to getting to know her. After all, he would be here for the next six months, studying with Peter and strengthening the Novikov
Bratva’s
presence in the British Isles. There was no reason he could not be friends with the girl.

She handed him a shot glass then raised hers in a toast. “May the wind be always at your back.”

“To new neighbors,” he replied, amused at the way she almost choked on her tequila.

“Yeah, neighbors.” She fiddled with her glass, tension radiating from her.

The need to put her at ease had him softening his gaze for her in a way he’d never done with a woman before. “What part of America are you from?”

She looked up at him, and some of the shadows in her gaze dissipated as she studied his face then graced him with a wry smile that made the edges of his lips turn up in response. “The boring part. In the States, they call where I live ‘flyover country’.”

“What is flyover country?”

She looked at him then back at the glass in her hands. “It’s a place that’s so dull all people do is fly over it, never landing. Like I said, boring.”

Laughing, he took another sip from his tequila. “What is boring to you is exotic to me.”

“Where are you from?”

He almost told her the truth, that his home was in Moscow, Russia, but instead, he said, “Minsk, in Belarus.”

“Belarus, huh?” Leaning against the edge of her kitchen counter, she smiled at him. “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know much about your country. By ‘much’ I mean anything.”

“Is boring,” he replied with a teasing smile. “You tell me about your boring place, and I will tell you about mine.”

She smiled at him, and his chest tightened. “Deal.”

Motioning to him, she led them into her spacious living room done in shades of purple and gray. A thick, furry white rug lay beneath the small coffee table, and a few plants hung from hooks in front of the windows. She took a seat on the sofa and seemed a little surprised when he sat in the chair near her instead of next to her in an effort to make her comfortable. He obviously made her nervous, and he wanted to reassure her he meant her no harm.

They chatted about their homes and families, although Alex gave her an edited version of his. Telling her that his father was a ruthless monster who ruled one of the most powerful
Bratvas
in Russia with an iron fist and that he was one of the world’s best assassins probably wouldn’t be smart or the best way to get her to relax around him. Instead, he went with one of several background stories he had for his various aliases. But he didn’t lie that much. He told her how his mother had passed away years ago, leaving out the part about them being assassinated, and how he had a younger half-brother he was very close with. He’d also once had a stepmother, a kind, sweet woman who had doted on Alex like her own, also assassinated. He said that she’d passed of an illness along with his much loved younger half-sister.

The cruel reminder of the reality of his life crashed down on him, and he felt like an asshole for even thinking of involving her in his world, yet he couldn’t force himself to move. Her presence was like a balm to him, a soothing caress that seemed to wash clean some of the darkness clinging to him. The feeling left behind was so unusual that he couldn’t really give it a name. He knew only that there was a warmth in his body, a relaxation that had the tension draining from his body.